


Hiding My Heart

by GoSolo, MysteriouS24



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5628970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoSolo/pseuds/GoSolo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriouS24/pseuds/MysteriouS24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kelley O'Hara has struggled through heartbreak after heartbreak and has reached her breaking point when an old flame is reignited. Is Kelley setting herself up for yet another devastating end or will she finally get her happily ever after?</p><p>Fair warning: this is smutty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deep Blue

It was time for vacation. I knew this. Anyone who came into contact with me knew it. My usually cheerful, fun-loving, positive personality faded away to nothing. My ability to rebound after the unexpected was a signature character trait I carried as a person and an athlete. However, that particular attribute was seriously diminished after the continuous onslaught of emotional battery I had been a victim to. There is only so much a person can take before the load becomes unbearable. I had reached “too much” before I actually accepted it and took action. I almost drowned in it before I realized just how bad off I was. 

Of course, not all was lost. The year had ushered in incredible accolades and opportunities, professionally speaking. But what had me so discouraged was that most of these unbelievable things happened on the pitch not in my personal life or my romantic endeavors. My personal life was a failure. Ann was gone. My affair with Hope ended just as quickly as it had begun years prior, but not until after I had fallen profoundly in love with her. 

That was it; I loved quickly and I loved hard. My childish nature seeped into all parts of my life. It helped me in many ways, but in some ways it crippled me romantically. I was simply, tragically alone. The matches were over, the victory tour was done, and the Olympic Qualifiers camp didn’t start for months. I decided I would hide away and so I left. I hopped on a plane headed to Hawaii and found myself in a small, secluded bungalow on the beach.

I was bewildered. For so long my schedule was strategically and strictly planned. I would love to say that I danced in the room with a button up, a pair shades, and a hair brush singing “Rock N’ Roll,” but sadly, that was not the case. Once I got settled into my petite bungalow, I sobbed. It was uncontrollable, loud and erupted from depths of my soul I wasn't even aware existed. 

My heart was well passed shattered. It was smashed, brutalized and abused beyond recognition. After moving on from Hope, I had given all my trust and love to Ann. The most gut wrenching thing is that Ann didn’t do anything besides leave me. She never raised her voice nor did she belittle me. She never cheated. Nonetheless, she was so calm about it, so sure. Ann had let her eyes wander over nothing in particular before she set them on mine, “it’s over.” She had stated it so simply, so eloquently. I breathed in the ice of the words and as I exhaled I could only think one thing, she sounded just like Hope. 

That got under my skin more than I had foreseen. Naturally, I was heartbroken that the woman I thought I would spend my life with left me without a reason. The hurt from that was so unfathomably profound that I thought I wouldn’t recover; the Kelley I was had died the day she told me that she didn't love me anymore, but the surety in which she broke the news to me, the confidence, was identical to Hope's when she told me we were done years before. The only difference was that Hope had never told me she was in love with me, so she never got to rip those words from my heart the way Ann did.

After I had cried, my tears ran dry and my face was raw from wiping; I became livid. It took a good three days of nearly constant bawling before I hit what felt like limitless anger. I was furious. I sat in it and stewed for almost a full day before I picked up my phone and left a seething voicemail for Ann. I was unforgiving. As words spilled from my mouth, I couldn't recognize my own voice. I blamed her for everything. It was my goal to hurt her the way she had hurt me. Afterward, the tears came again, stinging my already raw skin. 

That night, I drank myself into oblivion and woke up to the floor shifting under my feet. My head pounded and I vomited into the kitchen sink until I was sweaty and out of breath. A cold shower helped bring me back to reality; I spent the day nursing glass after glass of water and wallowing in my depression. I would have given my right foot to feel the same rage I had felt the day before. At least then, I could form a thought, I could DO something. But I only managed to stare at a blank wall the entire day, blatantly discouraged.

My phone buzzed occasionally, and I would look at it numbly, ultimately ignoring it. I didn't have the energy to fake happiness, to ask someone else how they were doing, let alone care about how they were doing. I barely cared about how I was doing. Apathy ruled me that day. I fell asleep on the couch, unable to get the energy I needed to crawl under the covers in my room.

The next day, I was surprised to wake up with vigor. I spent the morning drinking coffee and watching the waves meet to kiss the beach faithfully; I may have even caught myself smiling. I waded in the warm, earthy water, read a chapter in a book I had brought with me and completed a strength training exercise before I showered. For the first time in a while, I actually felt boredom; sweet, wonderful, overdue boredom. 

In the early afternoon, I made up my mind to brave going into town. My cupboards were pretty bare and I was itching to find something to do. I'd always wanted to take up knitting, and figured I could grab a coloring book or two and some crayons, as well. Just in case knitting wasn't my thing. 

It was refreshing to explore the labyrinth of the city. I blended in well enough, although I'm sure I stood out to the island's residents as a tourist. Unlike the last time I had been here, during the victory tour, I wasn't wearing an obnoxious Hawaiian shirt; I'm sure that helped me blend a little better. 

I was more excited than I should have been about the fruit I found in the small grocery store and I smiled a little, welcoming a little of the old Kelley's zest for life. On impulse, I grabbed one of each fruit I didn't recognize, promising that I would make something delicious out of each one of them. I had to learn to be alone now, and that included finding the beauty in something small, including strange fruit. 

The energy in my body expanded and I almost bounced through the aisles of the store, grabbing ingredients to try new recipes I had saved on my phone for over a year, but never found the time or desire to try. A shift had occurred, so small that I hadn't recognized it but I started to see my life unfold. A life for me, where I could find myself, my passions, my hobbies and who I was. Not as a professional athlete, a world champion, or a soccer star. But as Smelly Kelley, the kid who hated broccoli who grew into the adult who still hated broccoli. 

At the checkout, I had my face in my phone, reading the recipe I had pulled up on how to make Alfredo sauce from scratch when I heard a familiar voice. My heart instantly sped up; surely I wasn't hearing what I thought I was but then I heard her laugh and whipped around. 

There she was, radiant as always and so confident. Her hair was lighter than it was the last time I had seen her, and I guessed she must have been out in the sun. When her piercing eyes latched onto mine, I felt my breath catch in my throat. This wasn't something I was prepared for. I wanted to be alone, to learn to be me, whoever that was yet the instant I saw her I wanted nothing more than for her to throw her arms around me and tell me I didn't have to be alone anymore. 

“Kelley!” Her voice was laced with surprise. My feet were rooted to the floor, the shock of seeing her out of the usual context had taken any ability to act normal from my brain. She threw her arms around me and I found myself burying my face in her neck, breathing in her scent, remembering the way she had smelled when she lie in bed with me all those years ago. 

It took all my strength but I managed to smile and pull away, hoping that she hadn't noticed how I lingered by her neck beforehand.

“Hope, what are you doing here?”


	2. Sugo

Her smile had always caught me off guard but that day, it left me almost speechless. She waved my question away, her radiant smile never faltering.

“It's a long story,” she said with a laugh, “What are you doing here?” I looked away from her and pretended to look at a candy display instead. I drew a quick, sharp breath before I decided to answer her, hoping that she couldn't see the pain I still carried close to the surface. I was on the mend and had energy to spare. I had smiled more then not, but it didn't negate the void in my chest. 

“Also a long story,” I said, before the pause got too long. I smiled at her, meeting her eyes again briefly. Those deep blue eyes pierced me, like they always had, and I could tell she knew I was hurt. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one leg. She examined me closely, I felt naked, shy and withdrawn.

"What are you doing for dinner tonight?" She asked confidently yet suddenly. I blinked, surprised at her response. Hope was the queen of building walls to keep others from trespassing when she sensed a person close to her pulling away, she would retreat just as quick. Once burned, twice shy, as the saying went. Her response to my vague response was not like the Hope I knew.

“Um, I was planning on trying to make chicken fettuccine alfredo from scratch.” I mumbled, feeling a blush creep up my neck. Hope knew what a terrible cook I was. I nearly killed her once when I tried to make her pancakes. The recipe had called for half a teaspoon of salt, and I had added half a tablespoon. Then I forgot the sugar. She raised her eyebrow at me in disbelief.

“You? Have you suddenly become a chef?” Her voice was gently teasing yet I felt my face flush deeper red. I shook my head and examined my fingernails. “Well, if you're alone I could come and help you cook it, you know, if you don't have plans.” 

Confusion twisted my brain. What was this? She and I had moved past our romance, as much as we could at least. But we had made it a point not to be alone together, or even to be emotionally close. We maintained a friendship like only two ex-lovers could; awkward, remorseful and filled with yearning neither one of us would ever admit to. Of course, she had seemed to move on well enough when she married Jerramy. 

“It's okay if you don't want to, I understand...” Hope's voice trailed off and I could see she was a little hurt that I didn't jump on her offer.

“No, no! I'm sorry, ugh. That sounds amazing. We should catch up. Besides, me in the kitchen is frightening. I'd rather not burn it down.” I chuckled in a vain attempt to ease the tension between us. Hope smiled widely again, obviously pleased.

An hour later, I found myself sitting in the kitchen drinking white wine while I watched Hope make the alfredo sauce. After ten minutes of trying to teach me, she told me I would do better sitting down after I dropped raw chicken onto the floor. The alcohol was helping me relax. Having Hope in such close proximity was making me jumpy and nervous. The only reason I had dropped the chicken in the first place was because she had snuck behind me to watch me cut the it. I could sense her warmth the second before she spoke softly in my ear.

“Good job, Kell.” She sounded impressed. The familiar scent of her invaded my senses and I got dizzy; I turned around quickly which knocked the raw meat to the floor. She was so close, for a instant I leaned closer to her, my lips parted. I ached for her to close the distance between us, to kiss me like she used to. The moment passed when she jumped back quickly, leaving me feeling disappointed and confused. 

She chatted as she cooked, flitting through the kitchen with ease. Before long, the aroma of dinner radiated through the small kitchen and my stomach growled almost incessantly. Her words went in one ear and out the other as memories of her drifted through my head. 

Hope had always carried herself with grace and self-assurance, even when the spot light that followed her everywhere she went was negative. Behind closed doors, though, she was vulnerable and scared. The first time I saw her break down was after a stranger had stopped her on the street and called her a bitch. She had responded with a smile and told the man to have a wonderful day before she took my arm and pulled me along with her. We had made it back to our hotel room in record time. Her chin quivered as she struggled to open the door, finally giving into herself when the door was safely latched behind her. 

She slid to the floor, holding her knees to her chest, her body shook with silent sobs. Not knowing what else to do, I sat next to her and held her until she was finished. That night, we stayed in and ordered movie after movie and our weight in food from room service. 

Hope had raved about the fettuccine alfredo, but maintained that she would have made it better. I had to admit, as I took my first bite of dinner that night in Hawaii, that she was right. 

“Oh my god, Hope, this is incredible,” I nearly moaned before I shoveled more in my mouth. She laughed, her eyes sparkling. 

“I'm glad you like it,” she responded, taking a sip of her wine. 

“I was just thinking about that night that we watched movies and ate fettuccine at the hotel,” I took another bite and licked the cheese sauce from my fork. I didn't want to waste a single drop of the delicious, fatty creation. 

Hope nodded, smiling. But I saw a bit of sadness shade her eyes. “That was a good night,” She said softly. 

Suddenly, I remembered the rest of that night and felt a pang of guilt hit my stomach. “Shit, Hope, I'm sorry I didn't think about that when I brought it up.” She shook her head and waved her hand at me.

“It was a long time ago, Kell, don't worry about it, okay?” Hope's words sounded relaxed enough but the guilt still ate away at me. I took a few deep gulps of wine while kicking myself for my oversight. 

That night had come to a climax when Hope pushed me off of her, but not after she had removed most of my clothes. Our kisses had ended with me half naked on top of her several times and I had always taken it well when she pushed me away. I wanted her, but I knew she wasn't okay with her own desire. That night, though, I got frustrated. I shouldn't have. But I did. In hindsight, I could see that I wanted her to love me. I took her rejection of physical connection as a rejection of me completely, as a person. I raised my voice, accusing her of playing with my emotions before I asked her what she wanted with me

Tears fell down her face when she had looked at me and whispered, “I'm sorry, Kelley. I'm just not gay.” The door to the hotel shut behind her and three days passed before we spoke again. Abby had to lock us in a room together before we would swallow our pride and deal it. 

We finished dinner in silence, my eyes downcast the entire time. I chewed myself out viciously, not just for my comment but for having Hope back to the bungalow in the first place. I was feeling emotionally needy and being in her arms made me feel wanted. I should have known the evening would end in disaster. 

After I washed the dishes and Hope opened another bottle of wine, I felt drained. The depression was attempting to sneak back in but I was determined to keep it at bay. That's how we wound up on the back porch, watching the sunset together, the tension melting away as we laughed. Memories of the World Cup and the victory tour bubbled easily from both of us. 

“Oh my god, remember when HAO and A-Rod drew on Abby's face when she fell asleep on the bus?” Hope laughed deeply as tears ran down her cheeks. 

“She was NOT pleased, but I personally think they drew a very nice muffin,” I snickered and Hope set her wine down so she could laugh harder without spilling. I watched her, enchanted by her absolute beauty. I couldn't look away. The sunset cast shades of orange and pink over her face, making her look more like a goddess than usual.

Hope noticed my gaze and she leaned closer to me, her tongue tracing her bottom lip in the casually seductive way only she could manage. After all this time, she had no idea what she did to me. My mind was cloudy from the wine and her closeness. I was tipsy and it was definitely effecting my filter.

“What?” She mumbled, taking another drink. I shook my head, willing myself to look away but I couldn't.

“You're beautiful,” I said. She hid her face shyly, giggling. The wine was obviously going to both of our heads. I felt another blush creep onto my cheeks. “Shit, sorry. I'm sorry. I mean you are, but you're married and...” I trailed off when I sensed a change in her mood.

“No, no, Kell it's fine. Really. Jerramy and I are...” she trailed off and finished the wine in her glass. “We're getting a divorce. That's why I'm here. We're separated so I'm taking a reverse honeymoon. Reclaiming myself, so to speak.” She poured the rest of the bottle of wine into her glass, but instead of drinking it, she set it down and gazed out over the ocean.

“Damn, Hope. I'm sorry to hear that.” I leaned closer to her. “Are you okay?” Her eyes met mine, that same blue seeing into my soul but this time I didn't mind. She nodded, not breaking her gaze.

“Yeah. Yeah, it hurts. I'm actually the one who asked for it. But it still hurts. It's the right decision, without a doubt. He didn't do anything wrong, we just have some personality differences that I can't get over. We're too different. It's for the best.” I felt a pang, remembering that I hadn't done anything when she left me, either. Was this her modus operandi? Taking partners until it didn't suit her anymore? I ushered the thought from my head as quickly as it had entered. I chuckled and she looked at me questioningly. 

“Oh, sorry. No, I wasn't chuckling at your pain or anything. Just...Ann left me and that's pretty much exactly what she told me.” Silence stretched between the two of us. I dropped my eyes. “What happened to us?” I blurted, instantly regretting opening the door. We had visited this conversation too many times to count, and it always ended in harsh words or tears. 

She rested her hand on mine much to my surprise and I found myself lost in her eyes again. “I wasn't good enough for you. I hadn't grown enough as a person. I didn't want to admit that a huge part of me wanted you not just physically, but emotionally, too. I had never seen myself as a gay or bisexual person...you shook the foundation of the person I saw myself as. You made me question everything and I didn't know how to deal with that. So I ran. And I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that.” Hope's words bounced around my head. Maybe it was the wine, the moonlight, her close proximity or a mix of all three things but I felt my heart beat heavily in my chest.

I missed everything about her. I missed the way she touched me gently when no one was around, the way she laughed, as if I was the funniest person in the world. I missed the way she smelled, the way she tasted when I kissed her. I missed feeling her arms around me. Her skin against mine. The way she bit her lip when she was nervous, or licked them when she was concentrating. 

I leaned closer to her, my eyes flashed momentarily down to her mouth. “I miss you,” I said. Her eyes burned and I noticed she was closer than she had been even a second before. “I miss you,” I repeated. 

“I miss you, too,” She whispered. The perfume of her breath went straight to my head. I could feel her exhale, the warmth of her made my lips tingle. It was as if the ghosts of her previous kisses were taunting me, reminding me of what I could never have. Of all I had lost. I was aching to touch her like I used to and it took all the strength I could to refrain from kissing her like she had never been kissed before. 

I closed my eyes and didn't move. I was trying to convince myself to pull back, to realize that we were both in fragile places, emotionally. Nothing good could come from a slightly drunken reunion between Hope and myself. 

But just as I was about to pull away, I felt her lips brush mine as soft as a feather. She broke contact, only to press her soft lips to mine again. I melted into her, without a second thought. Her hand rested on the side of my face before she slipped it behind my neck, deepening our kiss. She knew exactly what to do, where to go, how to touch me, as if no time had passed at all. 

Hope's tongue traced my bottom lip and I felt any resistance to her touch drift away. The taste of her and the wine was like a drug. So familiar, so enticing; my entire body was on fire. My tongue brushed against hers. I ached for more of her. All of her. 

When she broke away to pull my shirt over my head, I didn't resist.


	3. It Had To Be On Backwards...

Hope's hands left trails of shivery pleasure over my skin, the sensation constantly changing from fire to ice and back again. She encompassed all of me, warping all of my consciousness until I wasn't sure which way was up. Her fingers twisted through my hair as her lips abandoned mine, choosing instead to graze over the soft skin of my neck. I was sure the caresses her mouth brushed over me would leave visible scars from the way I smoldered under her hands and her mouth. 

I felt Hope's teeth sink into my shoulder just enough to make my knees weak. Through the cloudy caverns that had taken over my brain, I heard myself moan. Her hands moved gracefully down my sides, leaving my skin littered with goosebumps in their wake. 

My heart was racing so hard that I was sure it would burst through my chest. I had waited years for her to touch me like this again. Nights had passed with nothing more than memories to keep me company. Memories that could only begin to touch me the way Hope had. She had ruined me in so many ways for anyone else. 

She kissed me again, deeply, slowly, claiming me like she always had. She had never understood that there would never be a contest; her deep blue eyes had me entirely the very first time she looked at me. 

My hands wound through her hair and I felt her shudder. Maybe I had misjudged the effect I had on her, as well. Her fingers worked the button on my jeans open and I kicked them off almost frantically. I could feel my mind drowning in the storm Hope was creating in my body. I wanted her, without a doubt. I wanted her inside me with a ferocity I had never known previously. 

A small voice in my head objected loudly, advocating for me to stop. Sex wasn't the only thing I wanted, I knew. If Hope wanted me physically, did she also want me romantically? I tensed with sudden understanding. Sex was my problem. Sex gave me instant gratification, it gave me instant acceptance, affection. It made me feel wanted in all the best ways. But ultimately, all the worst ways, too.

The tiny voice in my head reminded me that I deserved more. Hope's fingers toyed with the waistband of my panties and my constitution weakened. It would be so easy to give in. I panted as her hand slid beyond the elastic of my underwear, so we were skin to skin. I was dizzy with desire. But I knew it wasn't right.

“Hope, no, stop,” I gasped. We were both breathless, wrapped in each other's arms. Her eyes clouded with confusion. 

“Did I hurt you?” She asked. 

“No. No, you didn't hurt me I just...” My voice trailed off and I was suddenly afraid that I would sound childish and needy if I told her what I really wanted from her. I argued with myself silently; was a meaningful relationship with Hope a want or a need? I couldn't make a decision, but I did know that I wanted her for more than just one night of well executed ecstasy.

“What Kell?” Hope's voice was gentle. I sighed. There was no way I could lie to her, she would see right through me. She had surprised me several times already in the hours that I'd spent with her; things that would have normally sent her running didn't. I reasoned that perhaps both of us have matured in a fashion in which my honesty wouldn't be a deterrent to our evolving relationship, whatever that turned out to be.

“I don't want to just screw anymore, Hope. I want something meaningful, deep, romantic.” Hurt flashed through Hope's eyes. She clenched her jaw and looked away. “Not that you were ever just a meaningless fuck. Ugh!” I growled and covered my face with both hands at the same time, growing very aware of my near nakedness. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head.

Of course it had to be on backwards and inside out. 

“It's okay, Kelley. I know what you mean. Maybe it would be best if I left.” She turned to walk into the house. I couldn't let her walk away from me again, not after all that had just happened. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into my arms, kissing her softly. 

“Please, don't walk away, not again. I want you, believe me. But I want you for more than just that.” I said earnestly. A hint of a smile crept across her face. Relief flooded through me. “I'm not saying we have to be official and weird. But...let's just let things happen. Things that aren't sex. I want to get to know you again.” 

“Okay, Kelley. I'd like that,” Hope nodded thoughtfully.

“Besides, you should probably stay here tonight, we're both a little tipsy.” 

“Well if I'm gonna stay here tonight, what do you say to another bottle of wine?” She bit her lip and grinned.

"I won't say no to that," I replied. I wasn't ready to say good bye to Hope just yet, especially after experiencing how well we still fit together. As I watched her glide into the house, my body ached for her. I took a moment to calm my breathing, allowing the pounding in my heart to simmer and settle down. By the time I opened my eyes, I had regained full control of myself, minus the wine. It was a mutual understanding that Hope could disarm me and take control from me anytime she felt the need. As I slid my jeans back on in the semi-darkness of the porch, I wondered if I could disarm her with the same ease.

* * *

 

Sometime in the night, we had stumbled into my room and snuggled closely under the covers. We were all giggles from the wine and the company. I would have readily admitted that Hope intoxicated me. I was starting to feel more like the old Kelley, but something was different inside; something intangible, nonetheless, welcomed.

My arms wrapped around Hope's warm body, her back pressed into my stomach perfectly. I basked in the aroma of her hair, her skin...I had missed her so much more than I realized. Her fingers intertwined with mine and I heard her sigh contently. 

I was soaring high with happiness. It was hard to believe that days before, all I had been able to do was sit and stare at a wall, or sob uncontrollably. It was as if Hope was the missing puzzle piece, the one that went missing for years before it was found. With her safely locked in my arms, was it possible that happiness was actually within my grasp?

In the stillness of the night, doubts ate away at me. Even the waves that kissed the beach rhythmically could not hush the thoughts that adamantly warned my heart to tread carefully. Could Hope be a distraction? Was she possibly a rebound from my break up?

I squeezed her tightly and kissed the back of her head. Worrying would get me nowhere. 

'Enjoy the time you have with her right now,' I scolded myself before my eyes grew heavy and sleep came.

* * *

I woke alone in the morning. Hope's clothes had disappeared off of the bedroom floor where she had left them the night before. I sighed. 

I had truly believed the night before that Hope had changed. It wasn't uncommon for her to go missing the morning after something major had changed. I had gotten my hopes up, yet again, only to have them crushed. She wasn't there the morning after our first time either; I had fallen asleep with the same elation then as I did the night before. But when I woke, basking in the morning sun, my bed was empty. No note, no text, no explanation. 

Remembering that moment years later still stung. I wore my heart on my sleeve, that much was true. I let myself expect things to morph overnight, even back then. Hope wasn't ready to deal with her feelings for me then, why did I think she would now, in the midst of a divorce? I let myself dream. 

'Time to grow up, Kell. No more dreaming. Now get up and kick today's ass.' Still, I opted to close my eyes instead. I could afford to let myself mourn for five minutes before I needed to get up. I was on vacation, after all. 

I felt the bed move. I jerked awake and whipped my eyes towards the direction I felt the movement. There was Hope smiling at me. 

“Hey, I'm making coffee and oatmeal and didn't want you to miss out,” She whispered. 

Even in the morning, probably hungover, with her hair messy and her makeup smeared, she looked incredible. I rubbed my eyes just to make sure she wasn't a hallucination.

“I thought you had left,” I mumbled groggily and sat up. 

“Naw, I just couldn't sleep when the sun came up and I didn't want to wake you up if I moved around too much so...” I smiled back at her. She really had changed a lot from the Hope I knew before. In less than twenty-four hours, she had managed to surprise and intrigue me more than I could have expected. 

After breakfast, we sat on the couch, looking through Hope's photo albums on her phone. I rested my back against her chest, with her legs on either side of me. Yesterday, the odds of me being snuggled into Hope were slim to none. I wondered if this was Heaven. Yet if this was Heaven, I had zero complaints.

“Oh my god, look at this picture,” she cackled and zoomed in. “This is when Whit got motion sick and threw up in A-Rod's diaper bag.” I laughed loudly.

“You took a picture of that? That's disgusting! Aww, poor Whit though. Didn't Alyssa wind up giving her what she thought were motion sickness pills but they turned out to be allergy medicine?” I turned my head to look at her and Hope nodded.

“They worked though. Whit just couldn't stay awake for more than ten minutes for an entire day.” She swiped through pictures of Whit sleeping in various locations, including the bathroom at a restaurant. 

“Jesus, Hope, what the fuck?” I giggled.

“Oops, I wasn't supposed to show that to anyone, I'm saving it in case I have to blackmail her,” She kissed the top of my head loudly.

Picture after picture swiped by, memories of our team mate's escapades, nights spent celebrating by drinking too much. A picture of Pinoe throwing up in a garbage can after she rode a roller-coaster too many times. I scrunched my nose.

“What's it with you taking pictures of people puking?” I asked.

“They're totally candid,” Hope responded happily. “Plus I like to give them as gifts for weddings and stuff. They always start great conversations.” She added thoughtfully.

“Do you have any embarrassing pictures of me?” I asked slyly, twisting my head so I could see her face again. She smirked.

“I think I do...they're in a password protected app if I do though, let me see...” Her fingers tapped her phone expertly. “Here we go,” She said, lowering the phone so I could see it again.

“This one is of you looking at the buildings, wrapped in a sheet,” She explained. I blushed and examined the picture carefully. I remembered that morning. We had spent it celebrating another victory, and doing very little sleeping. My hair was pulled back into a messy bun that Hope had playfully teased me about, saying I looked like a freckly ballerina. I had no idea she had taken that picture. She swiped on to the next picture.

“This one is you getting dressed one morning,” she continued. The picture was absolutely beautiful, the sun beams shone around my body, making me look almost angelic. I was bent, my eyes downcast as I pulled my pants on.

“Wow,” I whispered. I swear I could almost feel what she was feeling the day the picture was taken, just by how she had captured the moment. It hit me, hard and fast.

Hope had loved me. Truly loved me. I put myself in her position, imagining what it would have been like to fall in love with a friend, a colleague, especially of the same sex. I imagined her confusion, her pain. She must have been so torn and I hadn't even realized. Her hurtful actions weren't something she did intentionally to cause me pain; she reacted to her love, her desire, in the only way she knew how: to run from it. 

“That's my favorite picture of you,” She responded softly. We sat in silence, gazing at the picture she had taken of me years ago. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I bit my lip, refusing to let them fall. But my heart was aching for past 'us'. We had no idea the amount of pain we would endure when it was over. What would have happened if we had never crossed the bridge, if I had never kissed her that first night? If she had never questioned herself, her sexuality? Would we both be happy? 

I opened my mouth to speak at the same second her phone chimed and a text preview flashed at the top of the screen. 

Jerramy: When are you coming home, baby?


	4. Que Sera Sera

My stomach twisted in knots, sudden nausea threatened to send my breakfast back up. Behind me, Hope sighed loudly and brought her phone to her face. The tap-tap of her fingers on the glass of her screen got under my skin. 

'When are you coming home, baby?' 

That didn't seem like a text someone in the midst of a divorce would send to their soon to be ex. Hope had made it sound as if the papers were as good as signed. She had changed so much, it seemed, for the better. I was conflicted.

Our previous relationship had definitely been less than honest. For all intents and purposes, I had been the other woman. It had never felt that way, probably since we didn't have the usual hurdles of dodging spouses and the like. We were both away from home, so we were both able to put our significant others to the back of our minds.

But we had been honest with each other then, for the most part. I wanted to believe with all of me that she hadn't lied to my face. That her marriage was over and that Jerramy was well aware. But that text message...

I sat up, pulling myself away from Hope and crossed my arms over my chest. I struggled to stop myself from shutting down. That would only put walls between us, and that wouldn't get us anywhere. I needed to learn to value myself, to demand respect. It wasn't out of line to ask for the truth, especially from the woman who was less than a second away from screwing me on the back porch the previous night. I took a deep breath and turned to Hope.

“Do you wanna tell me what that was?” My voice was sharp, more than I had meant it to be. Hope glanced up from her phone, surprise written all over her face. I didn't often get stern, I wasn't one to raise my voice in anger. I was tired of being walked on, and new Kelley needed to learn how to ask the uncomfortable questions. 

“Oh Kell, no it's not like that,” she exclaimed. I raised my eyebrow at her. “He's having trouble accepting that it's really over. Here, look,” Hope positioned herself next to me and scrolled through her texts. 

J: Don't do this, we can figure it out  
H: I already filed for legal separation, you'll be served with papers within 48 hours. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be.  
J: Just tell me why  
H: I've already told you, but I'll tell you again. I don't love you like I used to, I can't see myself with you for the rest of my life. This isn't easy for me but it's better now than later.  
J: If it's not easy, then don't go  
H: Jerramy, it's over  
J: Is there someone else?  
H: No  
J: Where are you?  
J: I miss you  
J: When are you coming home, baby  
H: I'm not 'coming home'

I was silent. One of the first times I had decided to stand up for myself, to face the answer to a question I didn't want to ask. What if she HAD lied to me, what would I have done then? I'd like to think I would have asked her to leave, and held my head high. New Kelley power and all that. 

I wondered, though. In reality, I probably would have kicked her out and fallen into another pit of despair brought on by Hope Solo. I shook my head. The important point was that she hadn't lied to me. While I didn't take divorce lightly, her marriage was truly done. Our connection the night before had transcended the physical, it had been more. It hadn't twisted itself into a fanciful fantasy. A future with Hope could actually exist.

“I'm sorry,” I said, my voice was low. Hope smiled wanly. 

“It's okay, Kell. I didn't even think about how that would look to you. It IS over,” She replied earnestly. I nodded.

“I shouldn't have snapped at you without knowing the facts,” I explained. I felt guilty that the first assumption I made was that Hope had been lying to me. 

“I would've done the same thing. Don't worry about it, Kell, it's fine.” She caressed my cheek, her eyes searching mine. “Let's just move on, look at some more pictures.” She reopened the app on her phone and tapped the file named “Kelley.” The file had over five hundred pictures and I wondered what memories she had stored over the years, and if she ever looked at it if she missed me.

Hope tapped the picture and it loaded, taking up the entirety of the screen. It was us. The sun was shining, Hope was grinning from ear to ear. She wore her hair long, that day. She looked radiant. My lips were pressed against her cheek, a smile turned up the corners of my mouth. I looked so bright, full of life. We really had made a gorgeous couple. 

“Do you remember this day?” She asked. I nodded.

We had decided to go out for breakfast, early in the morning, just the two of us. Hope had found a place online that boasted they had the best cappuccino and cornetto outside of Italy. We had walked, hand in hand, enjoying the sunrise and chatting. Over breakfast, she had placed her hand on mine and squeezed before thanking me for being in her life. Throughout the day, we explored the city. We ate too much junk food and bought ridiculous hats and sunglasses, joking that we could run away together, change our names and live happily ever after with our many hats to disguise us. She said we could go to Italy and open a cafe. Have babies with names like Alessondra and Arturo. 

It was a dream. All of it. And we knew it at the time, even while we were saying it. I pushed the knowledge that in an extremely short time, we would have to go to our respective states, significant others, back to our lives. Lives that didn't include a secret lover. I held onto the belief that somehow, we could be together. I could see the naivety in my eyes. I could see the denial in Hope's eyes. I could see the pain, because deep down we knew the truth.

Silence stretched between us. Questions bombed my brain, ones that I didn't want to ask yet. Could we have the future we talked about that day? A marriage, a family. Was it still just a dream? Questions my heart cried not to even consider the answers to. Ones I knew I shouldn't even be asking.

* * *

I sat alone on the beach, my knees pulled to my chest, the waves washing at my toes every so often. Hope had gone inside to nap after I gave her some surfing lessons. The sun was starting to set, which meant it had been almost a full day since we kissed on the back porch. I shook my head and pushed the desire for Hope aside, choosing instead to think about her surfing lessons.

She had done very well, her balance was impeccable and she was able to stay upright longer than I thought she would have been able to. After thirty minutes she was already comfortable standing and was chomping at the bit to actually hit the waves. She tried over and over again, falling each time. When she went under water, she surfaced with laughter every time, her joy was unbridled. I found myself feeling emotions I wished I could push away. Could I be falling in love with her, again? Or was I past that point, and in denial. She was more free than I had seen her in years.

What was I? I didn't feel free. I didn't feel joy, unless I was with her. I was happy enough but I still felt empty, alone. I missed me. I missed the bounds of energy that sent me leaping around. I missed being able to run, play and goof off for no apparent reason other than because I felt like it. I closed my eyes and sighed as the urge to be the old Kelley came in with the waves.

Without a second thought, I rose to my feet and stripped down to nothing. I waded out in the water until it was up to my waist. I watched the world move around me. Colors of the evening were splattered across the airy blue canvas. Birds called out to one another and the waves that crashed onto the beach protested when they rolled back out to sea. Focusing on the whispers of nature granted me the ability to be still, to clear my mind, to welcome who I had become, and to accept who I was becoming, without expectation or force. 

I dove. I swam, back and forth, letting the warm water wash the tears, the pain, the scars away. It felt like silk over my skin, so soft and gentle. Before long, I stopped and stood, with the bungalow at my back. The water lapped up around my hips. With my eyes closed, I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and focused on embracing the new Kelley.

Behind me, I heard steps into the ocean and chose not to turn. I could tell it was Hope by the cadence in which she walked. Her arms slid around my waist, and she held me from behind. I could feel her skin over mine and smiled to myself. I rested the back of my head on my naked lover's shoulder, appreciating everything about that exact moment in time.

“It's beautiful out here,” Hope whispered, her breath tickling my ear. I hummed wordlessly in agreement. “I wanted to ask you something,” she continued softly. 

I turned, my arms settling comfortably around her neck. “Anything,” I responded. The same need from the night before blindsided me. I wanted her. My body craved her deft touch. I was tempted to abandon my previous vow to abstain when both of us pressed against the other, from our thighs, our stomachs, our chests. I wondered if she could feel my heart pounding. 

“Will you, Kelley O'Hara, be my girlfriend?” Hope's voice was raspy and low. I could see in her eyes that she had the same urge. I could also see her astonishing self control. “Girlfriend sounds very high school, but you know what I mean,” She added with a chuckle before she pressed her forehead to mine. “Please?” She whispered, gazing at me in a way that made me feel completely vulnerable yet safe. 

“Yes,” I said, standing on my toes to nuzzle her nose to nose. I felt her breath hitch for a moment. 

“Really?” Hope whispered. Her breath made the world spin and I couldn't stop myself. I kissed her, thoroughly. Her hands pressed into the small of my back, drawing me closer to her. I felt our wet skin slip a bit when I rose higher to deepen our connection. I let one hand travel to her face. We stayed like that, our kiss waxing and waning before we naturally broke away from one another.

“Yes, really,” I replied and kissed her again.


	5. Distraction

I awoke the next day with a smile on my face. Hope was wrapped in sleep next to me, warm and cocooned. I smiled, taking in the vision of my brand new girlfriend. Her hair was disheveled and tangled, her cheeks flushed an angelic pink. I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with her until she woke up and bask in the peace of our new, official, relationship. 

Nonetheless, I found myself quietly rolling out of bed to shower and start the day. If I could surprise her and deliver breakfast in bed, I would. However, we both knew I was a terrible cook after the pancake incident a few years back. My decision to bring her cold cereal and coffee instead appeared more humane, at the very least. 

What I undoubtedly wanted for breakfast was her. 

I started my shower with cold water, in confidence that the chilly torrent would shock me into forgetting the internal war that raged inside of me. My resolve was steadfast, but my body was tenacious in its thirst for Hope. 

Relief flooded over me the moment the water hit my skin. The memories of Hope and myself locked together in ecstasy retreated. I knew the war wasn't over, that I would eventually surrender. Hope would capture me like she always did.

The cold assaulted me for as long as I could stand it before I turned the knob slowly over to hot. Steam rose around me, fogging the shower entirely and I sighed with satisfaction. My eyes closed and I let the water run from my scalp and down my body with abandon. 

Through the sound of the water hitting the tile of the shower and my own moment of bliss, I must not have heard the door to the bathroom open. Hope poked her head in the shower and I jumped.

“Mind if I join you?” She asked innocently. “We should save water, you know...climate change and all that.” Her eyes twinkled playfully and I grinned.

“Why Hope Solo,” I chided devilishly, “I had no idea you had such a passion for the environment.” 

Hope stepped into the shower gracefully, her lithe, tan body seized my mind instantly with its flawlessness. Involuntarily, I took a step back. A shower with Hope would be a genuine test of my willpower to keep my promise to myself. Although I had embraced the new Kelley the night before, I wasn't confident enough in my emotional state to succumb to my sexual hunger just yet. 

“No funny business though,” I added when her arms slid around my waist. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, Chocolate Milk,” She mumbled, “I don't swing that way.” Hope's lips brushed my jawbone seductively.

“You're so fucking evil,” I gasped and she pulled away, beaming with pride.

“Good, I've gotta keep you on your toes. Soap?” She offered. I glared at her and snatched the soap from her hands.

I turned my back on her, lathering the sweet smelling soap onto my shower puff and tried not to focus on the delicious heat her lips planted easily in my stomach. The battle would be harder than I thought. Each passing minute made me want her exponentially more than the preceding. 

Hope's fingers traced the sides of my torso and I clenched my jaw in an effort to hold my objective. Her touch wasn't meant to change my mind, I knew that. Hope would never pressure me into doing anything I honestly didn't want to do. Instead, her hands were the way she soundlessly told me that she cared, that she wanted me, and that to her I was an exquisite work of art. I cleared my throat and turned to her.

“Will you wash my back?” Without waiting for a response, I turned again to face away from her. 

The puff touched my skin softly and she scrubbed circles from my shoulders down to my hips. Hope was slow, deliberate, and thorough. Soon, I felt her hand run down my spine before she rinsed the suds away from me. I closed my eyes, reveling in the way her hands grazed me. For an instant, I could see myself the way Hope saw me; I felt sexy, masterful, and luminous. So when her arms slid around my waist again I didn't deny her. 

Her lips swept from my shoulder to my neck, sending my heart into a frenzy. Her caresses were ingenious and maddening in their skill. I yielded to her, willing my mind to accept and trust her affections. Hope wouldn't cross any lines, but she would toe them. I was looking forward to seeing just how far she would press. 

Under the extraordinary administration of Hope's hands, I couldn't tell where my body ended and hers began. I was arched and expectant; shivering even in the warmth of the shower. My breath came in short bursts when her hand slid down to rest on my hip. She enjoyed flirting with my limits. I moaned, my body defying my mind's wishes when my hips thrust, begging her for more. Begging her not to stop.

Hope pulled away quickly, the sound of her panting behind me gave her away. She may have tested my limits, but I tested hers right back. I smirked to myself before I turned and grabbed her. Two could play at that game; it was my turn to tease her.

I raked my fingernails down her back and kissed her deeply. She moaned, her body bowed into mine. My hands explored her fervently and I wasted no time when I pushed her against the tile wall of the shower. 

Hope gasped and tied her legs around my waist. I wondered how far I could push before she would stop me. My hand slid down her body to rest between her legs and she shuddered.

“Kelley, please,” Hope's voice shook. I locked my gaze with hers. “Stop,” she added. Her legs untangled themselves and she placed her feet on the floor. I stepped back, never looking away from those deep blue eyes. We stared at each other, out of breath, full of need and frustration. 

“We really need a distraction.” I exhaled. Hope nodded vigorously in agreement. 

* * *

Distraction. I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest. 

“C'mon Kell, it's a pancake recipe. I'm not asking you to make a five tier wedding cake,” Hope poked my side playfully. 

“This is why I got confused last time!” I pointed accusingly at the recipe. “I didn't know that tsp and Tbsp were different amounts.” I pouted. 

“Well now you have me to help you. Pancakes are super easy. Definitely something you should know how to make well, especially if we want kids.” She turned and continued to pull ingredients from the cupboards. I started at her, my mouth agape.

Did she say if WE want kids? Of course I knew I wanted to have them someday but someday was going to come to an end if it didn't happen within the next few years. Kids with Hope...dirty diapers, snot, crying. It hit me that there was no one else in the world I would want to parent with and I swallowed hard. 

Kids. But first I needed to master the art of pancakes. Maybe I could move on to more complex breakfast food after I proved my worth. 

With Hope's help, I succeed in not only avoiding a kitchen fire, but also in my quest to make delicious pancakes. Hope had been my guide throughout the process, encouraging me when I questioned myself and teasing me gently when I asked how the hell I was supposed to melt butter without a microwave. 

The place filled with the sound of our laughter while we ate our weight in sugary breakfast food, coffee, and fruit. Hope regaled me with stories of her childhood, and I laughed until my stomach hurt when she described the time she had been chased by a rogue firework, instilling a lifetime fear of the colorful explosives. 

“What's a fear you have that you haven't told anyone about?” She asked, leaning closer to me and I groaned. 

“You have to promise you won't tell anyone,” I begged. She nodded, excitement sparkled in her eyes. 

“Sea life. Well, any water dwelling plant or animal. My dad used to tell me there were baby alligators anytime something brushed against me while I was in the water.” Hope snorted loudly and I slapped her shoulder in protest.

“It's not that bad! It's not like I'm afraid of peanut butter or something,” Hope rolled her eyes and kissed my forehead. 

“It's just so...Kelley of you.” She retorted and sauntered away from me to put the dirty dishes in the sink. I drank her body in with my eyes. Fuck. I needed another distraction.

“Do you wanna go build a sandcastle with me?” I jumped to my feet. If I didn't get out of this place soon, I wouldn't be able to hold myself back. My heart still hadn't slowed completely from the encounter earlier. I wondered mildly how much longer I could stand saying no. I was ready to beg her in the shower. 

“I would like nothing more than to build a sandcastle with you.”

* * *

I was on the hunt. Our sandcastle needed decorations. I held the hem of my t-shirt up to store the pebbles and shells I had found on my expedition. I waded in the ocean, my eyes squinted against the light as it reflected off the clear water when I saw it.

A pink shell, curled on the ocean floor. It would be a perfect adornment for the stop of our sandy kingdom. I squealed and picked it up, when something moved inside it. 

“Holy fuck!” I screamed and dropped the creature directly on my foot. I felt it move and screamed louder, letting go of my shirt. All my bounty fell into the water while I ran. Tears ran down my face, tears of fear, shock and surprise. 

“Kelley, what's wrong?” Hope ran toward me and I flung myself into her arms. She rubbed my back in an attempt to sooth me, small shushing sounds reached my ears. I focused on breathing but my skin was crawling. 

“Sea life!” I exclaimed. 

“Sea life?” She asked quizzically. I pulled away from her and wiped my eyes.

“I was looking for shells when I saw a really pretty pink one, but when I picked it up, something was living in it!” I shivered and ran my hands up and down my arms, trying to rid myself of the tickling sensation. Hope doubled over in laughter. 

“Oh my god, Kell, “ Hope wheezed. “It was probably a hermit crab, the shell is where they live. They're harmless, really, we could get one at a petstore!” I glowered at her, trying to find a reason to be mad at my stunning lover in vain. A smile cracked my face and I giggled. 

“I may or may not have over reacted, if that's the case,” I said through my laughter. We stood together, laughing until tears ran down our faces. She pulled me close to her after the worst had passed.

“You're really weird,” Hope said and kissed me briefly. “I love you so much.”


	6. Never Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for smut, my friends

Hope loved me. Hearing the words straight from her mouth was so much more exhilarating than I could have imagined. After the initial shock had worn off, I danced around the beach, kicking sand up behind me as leapt and shook my hips. Hope watched, amused at my antics, and egged me on. After a series of cartwheels, I kissed her.

“I love you, too,” I replied happily. I was high. High on life, high on Hope, high on new Kelley. It was hard to believe that just weeks before, my heart had been shattered and I was utterly alone. I had been convinced I would be alone forever, and then Hope strode in confidently. She never tried to change me. Instead she chose to support me and love me the way only she could.

Nothing could mar the happiness her confession brought to me. 

I had fallen asleep on the couch and woke up dazed and slightly confused. I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to clear my cloudy vision and stood to look for Hope. I wanted to ask her to go to town with me for dinner, another distraction tactic, but also because I felt the need to celebrate. We were in love; there had never a better reason to celebrate. 

After I had searched the kitchen, the bedroom and bathroom, I was concerned. It wasn't like Hope to take off without leaving a note. Her shoes were still by the front door, though, so I turned my attention to the french doors that led to the back porch when I heard her voice.

“Of course I still care about you, deeply, Jerramy. We've gone through a lot together...” Hope's voice trailed off and I turned to walk away and give her the privacy she needed to discuss her divorce with Jerramy. 

“No, it doesn't have to do with Kelley.” She sighed. I stopped in my tracks, wondering why I was brought up in the first place. “It was over before that. It was over long before I lost the baby, we both know that.” Baby? I had no idea Hope was ever pregnant. I felt the happiness drain from me. Had I been so wrapped up in myself that I didn't see Hope's own struggle? She seemed so together, so happy and sure. 

As I tiptoed away from the french doors and back to the couch, I berated myself for my lack of awareness of Hope's hardships. Of course she was in pain. How could I have missed it? 

Thoughts wrestled in my head. I had seen her on her phone with enough frequency, but I had thought nothing of it. In hindsight, it was easy to see that Hope was grieving and processing, just like I was. I had time alone, days of tears, days of anger, days of apathy. I hadn't even thought to ask how she was feeling about it all. I got so caught up in the safety of our isolation that I forgot we both had people , that we both had lives that weren't in a honeymoon bungalow on a private beach in Hawaii. We had to leave sometime, return to the hectic lives only professional soccer stars could lead. We had never spoken about what we would do then. 

Questions tumbled forward; do I ask her about the phone call? Do I tell her what I heard? I didn't want to lie to her, but I didn't want her to feel forced to disclose things to me if she wasn't there yet. It would come in time. Hope was still her stubborn, arrogant, beautiful self but she had grown. She was transparent with her feelings, honest about her actions and careful with her words. There was no doubt in my mind that she would tell me everything if I respected her space and her time. 

Another part of me was irritated at her lack of a backbone with him. I was sure that she felt guilty for putting him in the middle of her struggle of self and sexuality; for our affair. It had been easy enough for her to tell me with no uncertain terms that we were done. She was calm, self-assured and to the point. Why wasn't she doing the same with Jerramy? 

Hope had wounded me deeply when she ended our affair without warning. Part of me still saw her words and actions as cold and callous. She had gotten what she wanted and when she was done, she tossed me aside. I argued with myself, though. It was obvious that she loved me then, and it was also obvious that she wasn't ready to love me. She had transformed so much since then. Was it really fair of me to hold her past actions against her in our current relationship?

Hours later, we sat together on the couch. The sun had gone down, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore permeated the house. Hope was quiet and withdrawn and had been since her phone call earlier that day. I was worried but tried to breathe through it; I shouldn't take her sudden change as a sign that we were headed down the wrong path again. At least, that's what I tried to convince myself. 

“Hope, are you okay? You've been so quiet since this afternoon,” I finally asked, praying that the tension I was feeling would ease and she would open up.

“Yeah,” She answered quietly, but then shook her head. “No. I'm not. Jerramy called me earlier. He's still holding onto us so tightly and it's hard to see him like that. Did you know he had a few different affairs?” She nodded, responding to the look of shock on my face. “Yeah, three of them. Of course, I always wondered...and I had the affair with you so I didn't want to open that door by asking. I didn't feel like I had a right to be angry. I am though. I guess because the difference is that my affair with you is because I love you. He did what he wanted because he had desires that weren't met since I wasn't around. Maybe I blame myself a little.” She sighed.

I didn't know what to say, so I let the silence stretch between us. I wanted to hear what she had to say, I wanted her to open up to me. But to see her so broken up about her marriage ending was hard. I couldn't help but wonder if she was this broken up when we were through. 

“Anyway, we wound up in therapy together to try and fix things, but my heart wasn't really in it. By then, I was embracing the fact that I wasn't really attracted to him, or any other man, anymore. But I went because I found out I was pregnant and I wanted my baby to have both of its parents, if at all possible. I figured I needed to come clean, so I admitted to my affair and my feelings for you.” That explained why I was brought up in the earlier phone call. 

“But then I lost the baby,” Her eyes welled up with tears and she sniffled. I moved to put my arm around her and she leaned into me gratefully. “And that was that. I was finished. I had done a lot of soul searching and realized the reason I had even had you on my radar in the first place was because I wasn't happy. If I had been truly happy, I would have kept my distance the minute any kind of non platonic thought entered my head. But I didn't. I think I was looking for a way out of my marriage and then you walked in. I never thought that I would fall in love with you, but then you kissed me and I was yours.” Hope smiled at me, albeit tearfully, and I found myself smiling back.

I had no idea that she had fallen for me that quickly. Hope excelled at hiding her heart from everyone, even me. At the time, I didn't know she felt actual love for me. I obviously knew she cared, and I knew she wanted me. But the L word, at that point, had been a dream. She had never told me she loved me, not once, until that day on the beach. 

“I left him, less than a month after I had the miscarriage. I don't know why I came to Hawaii but it seemed like a great place for me to come to start my new life. It was positive, warm, sunny. Then I saw you at the market and it was like God shone a light on you and said 'Hope, don't be stupid. You loved her then and you fucked up. Don't fuck up this time.' Who am I to argue with God?” She chuckled and caressed my cheek with her thumb. “I never believed in fate until that day.” 

Hope's eyes locked with mine. At that moment, I knew without a doubt that I was ready. I was ready to be with her, no more distractions, no more delays. With her naked confession, Hope had put my fears to rest and I readily embraced our future together. 

“What are you thinking?” Hope asked. 

“I'm thinking that I want you, all of you,” I whispered in response. I saw her eyes widen and didn't wait for a response. I pulled her over me, so her knees were on either side of my hips and kissed her powerfully, willingly welcoming the taste of her on my mouth. I let my hands roam freely, over her sides, her back, her hips...it felt incredible to not hold back. 

Hope moved over me, her body responding to every graze of my fingertip. I worked my way up under her shirt. She moaned through our kiss as I roamed over her sensitive skin. Every second that passed added fuel to the fire we had created so quickly. Hope broke our kiss to pull her shirt over her head before she connected with me again hotly.

My hands gripped her hips, reveling in the way they moved. In no time, my fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra before she was freed from it. The sensation of her satiny skin under the palm of my hands with the clash of her tight nipples drove me to the brink. 

“Fuck,” I heard her gasp and she unbuttoned her jeans. I let my hand slide under the waistband of her panties and was greeted with her wetness. She moaned, her head thrown back, her face flushed. I could never get enough of her, that became obvious with the heat that scorched the center of me.

The fate that Hope had come to believe in seemed to want to keep us apart, however, when her phone rang shrilly. I jumped, my first reaction was to try and pull away but Hope wrapped her fingers around my wrist.

“Don't stop,” She begged, and I couldn't argue with that logic. She rose to her feet and shimmied her jeans off followed by her panties that she sent flying across the room where they draped off a lamp shade.

The phone stopped ringing finally when I pulled my shirt over my head and flung it onto the same lamp shade Hope's lacy unmentionables had made it to. 

“Pants too,” Hope demanded, falling to her knees to help me pull off my jeans. Her phone rang again and she snatched it off the coffee table and silenced it. Kisses trailed up my calves to my thighs, her lips taunted me, inching closer, but never delivering on what I knew she really wanted to do. Panting, I practically ripped my bra off in anticipation when she licked up my stomach to my chest from my belly button. 

Hope sunk her teeth into my collarbone before she kissed me, nipping at my bottom lip roughly, then smoothing her tongue over the painful bite until I was moaning. Her lips traveled to my neck and she slid her hand between my legs. I sighed, my hips thrust involuntarily. I could feel her tease me and I was all but begging for her.

When the fucking phone rang again. Hope growled and stormed to her phone. She swiped and answered.

“Someone better be fucking dying, what the hell do you want?” She growled. She listened intently for a moment, the anger draining from her face. “Jerramy, I know you're struggling right now but really, it's time to sign the damn papers already. This isn't a good time.” 

I grumbled in frustration, covering my face with both of my hands. Why the fuck was he calling? How was it possible that I was being, for lack of a better phrase, cock blocked by my girlfriend's soon to be ex husband from a completely different time zone? And why the hell was Hope even engaging him in conversation? My arousal quickly turned to anger as the conversation continued. 

Hope caught my eye and mouthed 'sorry' to me and shrugged. I looked away and crossed my arms over my naked chest. Her face fell and I worked to not roll my eyes. After another minute passed, I gathered my clothes and shoved my limbs into them, angrily stomping to my bedroom. I slammed the door loudly.

I knew I was acting childish but I was livid. Finally, things were going well for us, we were going to explore the physical side of us again when Jerramy decided to be a man-baby. Not only that but Hope was actually entertaining his bullshit. No wonder he still thought there was a chance. 

The bedroom door opened slowly and Hope stood in the doorway in her t-shirt and panties. That really wasn't playing fair; how dare she look so good when I was so angry? I looked away.

“I'm really sorry, Kell. He's just feeling so alone. It's hard for them. I want to be there for him.” I turned back to face her, my anger bubbling up from my stomach. I narrowed my eyes and before I could stop myself, words that I would furiously regret flew from my mouth.

“Like you weren't for me?” I demanded. She flinched but held her ground.

“That's not fair! The circumstances were completely different then and I'm a totally different person!” She retorted hotly. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh really? The circumstances have changed, huh? So why the fuck am I still playing second fiddle to him?” Hope was silent. “Answer me, Hope!” I felt tears run down my face and Hope still stood still without an answer. 

“Then what the fuck are we even doing, besides lying to ourselves?” I finished. I was so tired of never being the first, never being the most important person. It would have been one thing for her to answer the phone if we were just hanging out but we weren't. 

“I don't even know what to say,” Hope's voice cracked, her eyes seemed glued to the floor.

“Well, there's a first,” I hissed at her and stalked out of the room to the beach, seething.


	7. Deja Vu

The minute my bare feet hit the sand, I regretted everything I said to her. It wasn't right of me to hold her past mistakes against her. She was right. She had changed, the situation was different. By entering into a new relationship with her, shouldn't I be able to forgive past transgressions? In a perfect world, maybe. My history with Hope was too complex and convoluted to be able to erase the past with confessions of love and sweet caresses. 

I needed her to show me that she had changed. In some ways, she had. Her emotions were transparent, she was quick to use her words instead of shut down and walk away. She had been free with her affection. She had been honest. But one thing she hadn't done was show me that I was who she saw herself with for the rest of her life. Maybe my own insecurities were pulling me under, I didn't know for sure. But I did need to know that I was important, that this bungalow in Hawaii wouldn't turn into another broken heart with memories burned into my brain, searing me for the rest of my life. 

“Fuck!” I screamed, grabbing my head before I plopped on the sand. Hope had fallen victim to oversight, but I had gone off the deep end. She didn't deserve my anger. She had the right to know how I felt, but the delivery was completely incorrect. 

My head dropped into my hands in shame. By yelling at Hope, I had done the same thing I was angry with her for doing to me. I shut down, I walked away...because I didn't get what I wanted. Although I was sure our fervent state of wanting had added fuel to the fire when Jerramy called, it wasn't an excuse for my poor treatment of Hope.

“Kelley,” Hope's voice whispered across the soft breeze of the night and I felt my skin erupt in goosebumps. Untainted by irritation, her tone was raw with pain. I turned where I sat, and watched her walk toward me. 

“Hope,” Even saying her name made me feel worse. She sat next to me gracefully, but far enough away so that I couldn't easily touch her. I didn't blame her for keeping her distance. The Kelley she just saw was ugly; not the person I wanted to be for her or myself at all. 

“Fuck, I'm so sorry. I felt...” I searched for the right word. “Small.” I finished. She looked up from the sand and met my stare. “When we were together before, when you were still with Jerramy, that's how it was with you. We could be in the middle of anything and he would call. And you would always answer. I loved you, but sometimes I felt like I was just...insignificant. Tonight brought that all to the surface and instead of dealing with it and talking to you, I belittled you and I'm so fucking sorry.” I sighed loudly. What else could I say? 

Hope was quiet, her eyes disconnected from mine, instead taking in the dark ocean in the moonlight.

“We're gonna be okay, Kell. Just...talk to me before you yell. I will listen when you do.” I knew she would, too. “I shut my phone off,” She smiled slightly. “Obviously the moment is gone. If it's okay with you, I want to go to bed, cuddle, and go to sleep.” 

Long after her breathing evened out and her body melted into mine, her mind adrift with dreams she probably wouldn't remember in the morning, I cried. Silent, hot tears puddled on my pillow. I would let myself feel all my guilt, all my pain, and all my anger but when the sun rose over the horizon, I was resolute to focus on my future with Hope. 

* * *

My tears redeemed me, and I woke the next morning in high spirits. The sun shone in the room, causing Hope's highlights to dance in her hair. She smiled at me, her eyes still cloudy with images from her nocturnal visit to dreamland. I kissed her, before either of us could speak. 

Something in me switched on when her long fingers slid through my hair. A desire different than the almost purely physical burning demand I had cultivated over the years for her. My heart pounded staccatos in my ears when her tongue brushed against mine, naturally, but I wanted her more. I wanted her heart, I wanted my name to always bring a smile to her face. I wanted to taste and feel every inch of her skin until I knew her better than I knew myself. 

Little did I know, as I slid inside her for the first time in years, within hours the perfect scene of our future would cease to exist, charred and discarded. Her whispering breaths that filled me up as she coiled under me would turn to specters that would haunt my dreams that night when I would find myself alone. Again.   
* * *

Hours later, we were still intertwined, a shifting collection of limbs bound together with passion . Once the fire between us had been lit, neither of us had any desire to leave its warmth. And there was no reason to go anywhere aside from each other's arms. 

My nails dug into Hope's shoulder as she administered another fiery bite to my collarbone, diagonal from the ones she had so carefully placed along my neck. She still knew exactly which places could drive me to the edge. I moaned, the sound seemed to drift from my mouth but was suddenly marred by the steady pounding of knocking on the front door. 

Hope ceased her actions, her brow furrowed in concern and curiosity. “Are you expecting anyone?” She asked. I shook my head.

“It's probably the owner checking in. Just ignore it, he'll go away.” I reached for her. 

“Hope!” I heard a deep male voice shout, followed by more knocking and she pulled away again.

“Jerramy?” Hope mumbled under her breath, clearly confused. “You've got to be shitting me.”

“I'll handle it,” I said in exasperation. That was too much. Hope may have been available for him almost constantly since she had arrived in Hawaii, but she had made it perfectly clear on more than one occasion that they were done. How did he even know where she was and who did he think he was, showing up in the first place.

Wrapped in a sheet, I ran my fingers through my hair and swung the door open. 

“Can I help you?” I asked rather rudely. His eyebrows raised and I could tell he was genuinely shocked to see me.

“Kelley?” He shook his head and brushed past me, making his way into the house. 

“Jerramy, what the hell are you doing here?” Hope strode into the living room, cloaked in a blanket. Her cheeks were flushed, and I could see angry red marks on her skin from where I had grabbed, or bitten down during the hours of our exploration. Jerramy's eyes took it all in before he turned, examining me closely, as well. Understanding dawned in his eyes. 

“So it is Kelley,” He growled. Hope rose her chin indignantly, her jaw clenching with emotion.

“I told you the truth when I told you she had nothing to do with my decision to leave,” She countered. I could tell she was struggling to maintain composure, but she was clearly caught off guard.

“You expect me to believe that? You would leave me for HER?” He motioned toward me. 

“Excuse me, you need to leave,” I said. I felt my face flush with anger. 

“Kelley, no,” Hope spat in my direction and I took a step back.

“Let her talk, you're familiar enough with her mouth by now, that's more than obvious. But I'd love to hear what she has to say.” Jerramy smirked at her. Hope narrowed her eyes, her face transformed into the most loathsome, fear invoking visage I had ever seen her make. 

“I'm not going to do this with you here,” Hope hissed. 

“Such a Hope thing to say,” He scoffed. “You make the decisions and the people you claim to love just have to sit back and deal with it. I'm not going anywhere until you come with me.” To my surprise, Hope's face fell and she sighed.

“What do you want from me, Jerr?” She sounded defeated. She shrugged and shook her head. “You need to move on. It's over. I'm with Kelley now.” I tried not to acknowledge the way her voice wavered over her last sentence. I wanted to ignore the fact that suddenly, she didn't sound so sure. 

“I want you,” He said softly and closed the distance between them. Hope looked at the floor but Jerramy lifted her chin sweetly until she met his gaze. “I want to wake up to you every day, I want to hear you laugh and be there when you need a shoulder to cry on. And I want to have babies with you, a whole houseful of them.” I heard his voice break and he was silent. Hope's eyes brimmed with tears and even from the distance between us, I could see the blue depths that always reminded me of the ocean. A tear fell and kissed her cheek. Jeremy wiped it away and I flinched as if he had slapped her. 

“It killed me when you lost the baby. But if we can come back from my affairs and your...” he motioned to me and didn't complete his sentence. “Then we can get through your miscarriage. I promise. No more affairs. You are my life.” His voice had fallen to a whisper. The room was so quiet, I could have heard a pin drop. I felt Hope slipping away with every passing second and my heart screamed for me to move, to do something, anything at all. But I was stuck. 

“Jerramy,” Hope's voice was thick with tears.

“No,” he placed a finger on her lips gently, only to replace it with his lips. The image of them burned into my head, along with all the other times I had seen her fall into his embrace, take his hand or even just exist in his presence. I wanted to turn and run but I couldn't look away from them. 

Hope pulled away from him, stepping back until there was enough distance that he couldn't easily touch her. She looked to me, her face expressionless. 

“Kelley, I...” She started to speak but I found my voice.

“Go. Hope, just fucking go.” She bit her lip, another tear sliding from her eye and down her cheek. It took everything I had not to go to her and wipe her tears. I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay. I wanted to tell her to choose me, but I was over begging her for attention, affection and time. 

“I'm sorry,” she whispered and in the quiet torment of the house, I heard my heart crush yet again at the hand of Hope.

Just like that, she was gone. One moment, I was wrapped in her arms, the next moment she left me. I was numb. I walked through the bungalow aimlessly, devoid of emotion. Memories taunted me in each room, the beach, even the water held memories of us. 

Hours ticked by and I found myself staring at the same wall I had stared at weeks before. Before I had met her again and foolishly taken her back into my arms, into my heart and soul. I tried to feel anything. I even tried to hate her. Nothing came. 

Sometime in early evening, I felt my chest hitch and I came unglued. I screamed, feeling my heart shatter for the last time. Every part of me hurt. My skin even hurt. Tears ran rivers over my face. I thought of all the years, all the memories, all the times I had made her laugh. My mind played cruel reels of us on repeat, each image digging the razor further into the figurative flesh of my soul, slowly but dexterously, consciously, bleeding me dry. 

Her eyes, when she said she loved me. The way she kissed me. The way she held me. The way she laughed. The way her eyes sparked when she was happy. The way my name crossed her lips as if she lived only to say it. The way she threw her head back when she laughed, or how she considered how to answer a question. She would always look to the left and lick her lips when she wasn't sure what to say. The way her eyes lit up every time she saw an animal, no matter how big or small, or ugly or beautiful. The way she would walk directly into my arms after she had a long day years ago when we first discovered our connection. 

Sunset arrived with no end in sight for my pain. I tried to convince myself to get up and get something to drink, or to shower but I had no motivation and everywhere I looked there was something to remind me of her. Even just sitting and staring was excruciating; I could still smell her on my skin. I could still taste her. 

In the whirlwind of thoughts, the sound of knocking registered in my brain and I stirred. I stared at the front door, convinced I had imagined the noise. When it came again, I jumped like a feral animal in a trap. Slowly, I opened the door, unsure of what I would find on the other side.

“Hello.” Her face was puffy, red and tear-stained, much like I imagined mine to be but her voice was clear. 

“Hope,” I said softly and finally, an emotion besides all encompassing grief grabbed hold of me. “You look like shit.”


	8. The Other Side

I couldn't believe she had the nerve to show up on my doorstep after everything that had just happened. Her “soon to be ex” husband pushing his way into my space and she not only kissed him, but LEFT with him. Hope left me. And yet, there she was.

 

Seeing her face again left me winded, as if I'd been sucker punched in the stomach. I knew, logically, that I would have to see her again eventually. She was a teammate, least of all but also part of my extended soccer family. I had thought I would have time to prepare myself beforehand. Emotions tripped through me one by one; anger, sadness, betrayal, annoyance but under all of that, I was still happy to see her. I hated myself for it, but seeing her still sent my heart fluttering. I swallowed hard and scowled, steeling myself against her.

 

Hope's eyes never left mine as we stood silently, face to face. I tried to read her mind, knowing her eyes always revealed her true feelings in the end and I saw remorse, sadness, pain and fear.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled. She winced and opened her mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to cut her off. “You fucking left me, Hope. You left me for him AGAIN and now you show up hours later and expect...what? To listen to your excuses again? Do you want my forgiveness?” I scoffed and finally her gaze dropped from mine. Finally, she showed some shame. She shook her head. “Then what the FUCK do you want?” My voice raised to a yell and I expected her to step back but she held her ground.

 

Slowly, she lifted her chin so we were eye to eye again. “I want to be honest,” She said softly. I stared at her in awe, my mouth hanging open. To be honest?

 

“I was under the impression that you were honest with me since the day we ran into each other at the market,” I chuckled mirthlessly. “You say so much, Hope. I don't know if I can believe a word that comes out of your mouth anymore.” I retorted.

 

“I thought I was, too. There were things Jerramy needed to hear tonight. As it turns out there are things I need to say to you, too. Things that I had foolishly thought I could sweep under the rug when I asked you to be more than just a friend or a lover again. Hear me out, please,” Hope's voice dropped to a whisper. Despite it all, I wanted to hear what she had to say. I was intrigued.

 

'That's your problem,' I thought to myself. 'She gets you curious and you follow her like a puppy.' I sighed.

 

“Talk fast, Hope. I'm closing the door in two minutes so you better make it good.” My arms crossed over my chest. Her name usually escaped my lips with an unintentional caress; I made sure I said her name with a voice as hard as stone. I still loved her, as stupid as that sounded, but that didn't mean I needed to set myself on fire so she could see the light. And it didn't mean she needed to know that. She was my weakness, yes; I just prayed she couldn't see it.

 

Hope's eyes remained locked with mine for a moment longer, searching. For what, I didn't know. Maybe an inkling of affection, a hint that I could move on from all the scars she defaced me with. I watched her bend down and reach into a brown paper bag I hadn't noticed rested at her feet. When she straightened up, a tealight candle rested peacefully in her palm. She flicked a lighter, setting the wick aflame and held it out in my direction.

 

“This candle represents the very first time we kissed. I refused to talk to you the next day. That kiss was everything I had ever heard a kiss was supposed to be, and so much more. I can still feel your lips on mine from that day if I think about it. Everything about that moment is etched into my soul. I could die a thousand deaths and still feel your touch.” Her voice rang clearly, despite her obvious hours of tears.

 

“I know when I wouldn't even look at you, it hurt you even though you never said anything. I'm sorry for pulling away. I'm sorry for not telling you how utterly perfect it was. I was so scared to fall for you, let alone a woman. It was electrifying enough to scare me. I'm so sorry that I made you feel taken advantage of. I'm sorry, Kelley. You love me so hard it scares me.” Hope set the candle at the edge of the walkway. The candle light flickered over her face.

 

I remembered that night well. We had been flirting more and more dangerously for countless days leading up to it; casual glances full of suggestion, brushes of fingertips, even racy text messages. I had found myself in a hallway with her, alone, for the first time. Her back pressed against the wall and I stepped closer to her and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She had been smiling, but when I touched her face, it faded. I leaned into her, my heart pounded in my ears. I almost lost my nerve; my lips a mere inch away from hers, I stopped. Her breathing was uneven, I could recall that clearly. She closed the distance between us easily without hesitation. We had stayed that way until I heard laughter from Pinoe, Moe and Kling getting steadily closer and I pulled away from her.

 

Hope was right, I thought to myself as I brought my fingers to my lips all those years later in Hawaii; I could still feel the tingle of that kiss. I couldn't deny the memory brought a plethora of feelings with it. The exhilaration, of course, my curiosity, the newness of her and the anticipation of what would happen next. The void I felt in my chest the next day when she wouldn't even look at me.

 

“You have one more minute,” I said coldly. A sad smile adorned her face and she nodded once before she continued.

 

“This candle is for the first time we knew each other intimately. God. That night was...wow. I knew you were scared that I wouldn't be beside you in the morning. I should have risen to the occasion, and shown you that you could count on me even when I was afraid. But I wasn't there. I knew I should have stayed and I didn't. I was selfish. I was only willing to admit to wanting you IN the moment, I was not prepared to admit I wanted you EVERY moment. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I didn't make you feel wanted by me every second. I'm sorry for the tears you cried that morning. You deserved so much better.” I watched her wipe a tear from her face as she set the second candle across from the first. A familiar ache settled in my chest, a longing. For her, for us, for everything we had lost. My eyes stung with tears but I blinked them back.

 

Hope was completely correct in that she had committed plenty of indiscretions over the course of our turbulent liaisons. We were more than hours in the night, lusty moments captured when no one was looking. We had loved one another. Admittedly, I had loved her more openly than she had with me. Yet, I had to wonder if the reason I was able to embrace her so readily was because I was ready to love her. Simply put, she hadn't been ready or able to love me. It was humbling to hear her confess her sins to me one by one. If I looked back, could I remember every time I had hurt her? I didn't think I could. It was easy to point the finger at her and blame her for all of my pain, but was it fair?

 

A third candle flared to life. “This little candle right here is important. This candle is one you don't know about.” I found myself stepping out of the doorway, drawn to her. What didn't I know about? She met my eyes briefly before she continued.

 

“One day I became so sure of us, that I was ready to call it forever. For weeks I walked around waiting to say I love you. I gazed in jewelry stores and pondered their engagement rings. I was going to say I love you. I was going to buy a ring. The most perfect ring money could buy. I was going to call us forever.” She sniffed. “I never told you. I never said I love you. I'm sorry I wouldn't say those words to you. I'm sorry I refused to write them on slips of paper and place them in your shoes.I'm sorry for never mouthing those words before games. I'm sorry for holding those words hostage when you needed to hear them the most. I'm sorry I didn't buy that ring. You deserved every bit of it. But one day, I wasn't so sure. I kept those words from you. I cheated you out of a promise I wanted to make...I can never take my inaction back.” She set it on the side of the walkway.

 

Hope's words were like balm to wounds I didn't know I still carried. My anger waned with each candle she lit, with each acknowledgment of the pain she had brought to me. I realized with sudden clarity that she hadn't just hurt me and Jerramy, she had hurt herself, too. Deeply. Her need to be 'normal' and in control had snuffed the flame of life she carried within herself and without it, she was lost. In her shoes, I could feel the panic, the fear, as she clambered around alone in her self induced darkness, too afraid to reach out and ask for help. Even if she had reached out, would it have done any good? Hope had needed to find herself, by herself.

 

A fourth and fifth candle were lit and she set them further back. The distance between us grew each time, much like each mistake had driven a wedge between us. By the sixth candle, her tears flowed freely. I found myself at the edge of the steps to the porch, hanging on to each one of her words like they were a life line.

 

“This candle is for today and everything leading up to it.” She paused. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, her head dipped in shame. I had to force myself to stay where I was. My urge to comfort her was strong, but regardless of how beautiful her words were, no matter how sincere, I held back. It was hard to breathe. My grief seemed to compress my lungs as I watched the woman I had loved for years struggle to speak.

 

“Shit,” Hope mumbled and wiped her eyes. “You are right. You are not second to anyone. I never should have treated you as such. You entrusted me with your heart more times than I can count and each time, I found a way to give it back to you more bruised and torn than before. Yet, you kept giving it to me. You loved me in a way that was so simple and flawless. I'm sorry, Kelley, that he came here and disrespected you. I'm sorry I left with him. I knew the minute you told me to go that I lost you. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have entertained his ideas. I knew before I even stepped out the door that I had made a mistake. I wanted to run to you...” She set the candle down. Silence stretched between the two of us and I found it was impossible to look away from her. Her two minutes was up, long ago, but my anger melted like the wax of the many candles she had arranged in front of me. A new feeling, a buoyancy in my chest had taken its place. Was it foolish to hope we could make it through, after all this? I saw her take a deep breath and pull another candle out of the bag and light it. She was still for a long while before she spoke, her voice carried to me on the breeze.

 

“This is the last candle I have. I know that all the ways I've hurt you add up to a lot more than six times but there aren't enough candles in the world for me to light...I thought that I should stick with the major bullet points.” Hope chuckled, the sound marred slightly with her tears.

 

“This candle is for all the mistakes I have yet to make. For everything yet to come, because I have to believe that even after all of this, you still want me. That after all these mistakes and all the others that I've made, you still see me.” She motioned to the six candles set at her feet. “That after all this, you still love me.”

 

Hope wasn't a woman anyone would describe as unnoticeable or small. She always walked with her head up, even when her world was crashing at her feet. But that night, she stood at the end of the walkway, her shoulders slightly hunched. She was a woman stripped to the core, accepting herself, her mistakes and her flaws. All the same, she was a woman in love, asking for forgiveness. The question both of us carried was whether or not I could give her the mercy of my heart again. My love was not a question, it never had been. The real question was whether or not I could hand her my heart again and trust.

 

“If you don't want me and you're sure, blow out each of these candles. One by one. Extinguish what we had, what we could have. I deserve that. But if you want me as much as I want you let them be the light in which you find me. The real me. The woman who isn't afraid to love you, and isn't afraid for the world to know it. I can't promise you a white picket fence, even if I could... you, being Kelley O'Hara, would probably set it on fire.” I sniffed through my tears which had begun to fall sometime during her declaration. “What I can give you is a soft landing in my gloves. I can give you a kit to get dirty. I can give you cleats to dig deep, because there is no retiring from this. There's no walking away from you this time. I don't deserve you. And I can't tell you how much I love you, but I will spend my life trying.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

 

I tried to imagine my life without Hope and I came up empty. I imagined turning my back to her and closing my door. Would I hear her sobs? Would she beg, still? I knew the answer was yes to both of those things. Underneath all the what-ifs and all the doubts, I knew that at the end of the day, I wanted her next to me.

 

“I need to know one thing, Hope. And I need you to think hard before you answer. I need you to dig deep.” I said. She nodded and I continued “I need to know that this is the end of our affair and the beginning of our lives together. I need to know I'm always going to be your first choice.” Hope smiled.

 

“Oh, Kelley...If I had only listened to myself in the beginning we both would have known there was never a question about you. I fought a losing battle from the moment I set eyes on you. You're not my first choice, you're the only choice. You're the one. I know you've done it a million times already, but if you let me try for the million and first time, I'll love you the way I should have all those years ago. What do you say?” My throat tightened with tears and I couldn't breathe, let alone speak.

 

So I ran. My feet carried me down the candle lit path to her, her love lighting my way and I leapt into her arms. My legs tied around her waist at the same time her strong arms captured me and I kissed her. I could have kissed her for eternity.

 

“I'll take that as a yes,” Hope said after we broke away.

 

“Yes,” I responded.

 

“Kelley O'Hara, that is one of the most beautiful things you've ever said to me,” Hope murmured into my ear.

 

One step at a time, she carried me into the house that would later become our vacation home. The home we would honeymoon in, that I would learn to cook in. Hope would learn to surf. The very place we would later bring our four children to every year. That night, though, it was the home we would heal in. Hope closed the door behind her and in that action, she closed the door on our past. We had made it to the other side. And it was just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, GoSolo and I hope you enjoyed this as much as we enjoyed writing it. We'd love to hear your comments on it, with any luck, we'll work together again!


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